Even The Brave Will Fall
by Aeon Rose
Summary: When an irresistible force meets an immovable object, what are the consequences? *One-shot. Deals with dark themes, features swearing, and implied lemons/limes. (Adam/OC)
**A/N: The process of writing this took a long time, and was quite hard at times. I've wanted to write this for a while. I finally managed it. It's a long one, and can be a tough read. May trigger some, so a warning there. Will tackle dark themes. Thank you for the support everyone, it's much appreciated. :)**

Even The Brave Will Fall

A lone woman sat at the bar, of the Magenta Lounge in Tokyo. Different shades of dim pink lights gave the club a supposed 'romantic' vibe. For Marjorie? All it did was take the edge off her dark mindset, and the sharp tang off the cinnamon whisky in front of her. She held her head, and signaled for another drink, after throwing down the rest in the amber poison.

A flickering TV, a Picus News broadcast took her attention. It had been three months, since the devastation caused at Panchaea. A tragedy, with over a thousand lives lost that day, including those of Sarif Industries CO, David Sarif, and William Taggart, the leader and founder of the humanist group 'Humanity Front'.

Marjorie huffed softly. She was surprised she hadn't been questioned, in regards to the tragedy. She was Darrow's secretary after all. _Was._ Now, she was out of a job, and struggling, though admitting that wasn't something she would do. She opened her purse, and bit her lip. She had a little over two thousand credits to her name. She hadn't received severance pay, or redundancy money. Then again, she hadn't left, which would constitute severance pay, and she had not been made redundant. Her boss was dead, she didn't have anyone to help her out anymore. The HR department refused to answer her questions, and soon quit their jobs, after the incident.

She knew she wasn't the only one out of a job, but, she wished she had received some money. Even a little, just so she could pay her rent for a few months, and find a new job, and place during that time.

The barman gave her another drink, and she passed him a credit chit.

* * *

Adam wandered into the Magenta Lounge, looking for a woman, Darrow's secretary to be exact, Majorie Taylor. His head swam, he still wasn't able to process what had happened, and that Sarif, no matter how many times the man had lied, talked bullshit, and played his cards extremely close to his chest...

...The fact that he was gone? His life, and William's, and over a thousand people died, their lives snuffed out, in the blink of an eye.

And all because of that bastard Darrow. Adam had managed to reason with him, but the back and forth with the man drove Sarif's agent mad.

On Eliza's advice, Adam decided to tell people that Neuropozene was to blame. Too little and people wouldn't be able to function properly. Too much? They'd go insane, blathering, screaming, screeching, begging for death. They'd be in agony, unable to do anything, other than live a painful, pitiful existence.

It burned Adam, to not just tell the world the truth, that they needed to know. But, he couldn't, and wouldn't.

It was even more pain, and resentment he had to keep inside. Yet another reason to loathe himself...

* * *

Adam didn't want to think, he just wanted a drink. Though, he had a job to do, and he would see it through.

He spotted the woman he was looking for, and walked over, toward her.

Majorie looked at him, but didn't talk. She sipped her drink, and looked at him again.

"Tall, dark, mysterious...I take it you're here top either arrest me, though, you don't look like a cop. Or, you're here, to find out if I have some 'Top secret information', on what Darrow was up too, right?"

Adam glances over, but didn't respond. He ordered a double vodka, and drank all of it, in one go, grimacing.

He swallowed the clear liquid, and then spoke.

"Marjorie Taylor?"

The woman nodded, swiveling her chair a little and facing him. "I knew someone would come along, to question me at some point". She looked the man up and down, dark grey eyes stormy, unfocused. "No, I don't know anything. I was a receptionist, not a trusted confidant".

Adam growled, under his breath. She was already fairly inebriated. He should have gotten here sooner.

And he would have, if a riot hadn't started, in the marketplace. Rival gangs started shooting at each other, uncaring whether or not they injured innocent passerby's. He barely managed to avoid being injured.

He moved her drink away from her. "You're drunk". He ordered a water, and moved the glass over to her.

Marjorie frowned, her forehead crinkled. "And how do you know this? Who the hell are you?" She may have been slightly out of it, but she realised quickly, that the man had augmented hands.

"Augments huh? Parlor tricks? Who invited the court jester?"

Adam ignored that, with quite the effort on his part. "Adam Jensen, David Sarif was my boss".

Marjorie wasn't lying to him, though her attitude flare ups, Alpha spikes were worrying him. She was on the defensive, trying to find a way out of there.

She seemed to pick up, on Adam's agitation. "Well, evening Adam. I have no need to lie you know. I don't know anything. Darrow kept things secret, in a filing cabinets, that only he had access too".

The Alpha spike wasn't as high now, and a tad Omega showed up.

When a Beta surge happened, Adam signaled for another drink.

This was going to be a long night...

* * *

"I take it the questions will start at some point?"

Adam looked up. from his empty shot glass, spending his time staring, at the last drop of his vodka, as if analyzing it. This confused Marjorie.

"Yeah, okay. I'm leaving", she stood up, "When you're done, staring into an empty shot glass, I'll see you then".

She grabbed her back, and put it in the crook of her elbow. "I'll write my address down".

Adam suddenly moved, and stood up, blocking her way to the exit. Stern grey eyes, and a scowl was what this move earned him.

The woman took out a pen, and a pad, and jotted down her address. She tore the page, and passed it to him.

Adam took it, and put it down, on the bar. Marjorie nodded her head, and tried to walk around him.

He stopped her, placing a black, mechanical hand on her forearm. Marjorie flinched. She tried to look annoyed, but her brain was saying the opposite. She was scared, felt cornered.

She shrunk back, and almost missed the chair, as she went to sit.

"Okay, I don't know what's going on here, and I hate being at a loss".

Marjorie smoothed the fabric of her skirt down, and crossed her ankles.

"Okay, you win. Silence is fine, but when you aren't alone, you ask someone a question, and they ignore it, I _dislike_ that".

She spat that at word at him, _dislike_.

Adam frowned, lines wrinkled his forehead, and he pinched his nose.

"You worked for Darrow for several years. You did business deals for him, attended meetings, you cannot possibly know _nothing_ ".

Marjorie smirked. "I did, but what makes you think that any of his acquaintances told me anything?"

Another, louder broadcast from the older model TV took her gaze, and Adam's.

He could have swore...

* * *

 _"We have just received an update, regarding the tragedy, at Panchaea. Police are looking for Adam Jensen, head of security at Sarif Industries. Any sightings of Mr Jensen are to be reported to your local Police station"._

Marjorie looked smug. "Well, I am _staring_ at Adam Jensen right now. Guess that means I should report you, huh".

Adam's eyes widened as he withdrew his shades. "Shit", he muttered, "You could. I wouldn't, if I were you, but you could".

Mysterious green, mixed with yellow eyes confirmed the woman's thoughts. Seemed all of Adam's body was augmented.

"Is that a threat? A thinly veiled one if it is". She calmly stood, and pointed to the entrance of the lounge. "You could come back with me".

Well, _that_ was forward, though Adam appreciated that. Right now, anyone, who dances around the subject drove him near stark raving mad. At least Marjorie was progressive, fairly quickly.

She wagged a finger, and walked away from him.

She stopped near his ear.

"I didn't mean like _that_ either".

She paused. "Besides, I'm not in the mood".

The urge to smirk was overwhelming, so the man allowed himself a smirk, before turning and following the woman.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the pair arrived at Marjorie's flat. The flat was large, larger than Adam's apartment, the decor much brighter than his. Beige shag carpets, burgundy couches, soft pastel green walls, and a large glass table were what made up the living room.

Marjorie opened a door, which led through to her kitchen.

"You can stay a few days if you want, though I don't have long left in here".

Adam tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"I have paid the rent this month, but that's it. So, I have until the sixteenth of next month to find the money, or be kicked out".

She kicked off her heels. "I don't have a spare room. Is the couch okay?"

Adam nodded. After all, Marjorie could have turned him in, she could have ignored him, and he'd be spending the night in a jail cell. He was grateful.

"Yeah, thanks".

He peeled off his jacket, and winced as the fabric stuck, to a wound on his right hip. He'd been nicked with a blade. It wasn't serious, but had bled.

Marjorie saw blood, encrusted onto his jacket, when he took it off. She then saw a gash through his ripped shirt.

"You're injured?"

"The bathroom is through that door. Clean yourself up, you need it", she sniffed him, "you're bleeding, and you smell like a brewery".

Adam wasn't sure whether to feel annoyed or be amused, at her gall.

He walked into the bathroom, and stripped off.

* * *

Stepping under the shower spray, the warm water instantly soothing his aches. He groaned, as his stressed body finally began to relax. Spotting the bright orange tangerine shower gel made him groan. But his brain reminded him not to be so harsh. Marjorie didn't have to invite him into her home. She didn't need him grumbling.

He would thank her later, it was only right.

* * *

Marjorie was in the kitchen. Since she had been in the bar for over two hours, she hadn't eaten, and felt a little woozy, from the alcohol. She figured Adam hadn't eaten either, she'd ask him when he was done in the shower...

* * *

Adam bit back a wince, when the water hit his hip. It stung the gash, cleaning the blood from it.

"Marjorie?"

The woman in question grabbed a first aid kit, and took some bandages, and tape out of it.

She walked to the bathroom door. "Bandage, right?"

She opened the door, and looked the other way, whilst shoving her arm into the room, thrusting the bandage and tape towards the man.

He got out of the shower, grabbed a towel and took them, shaking his head.

Marjorie laughed. "What, you want me to look? Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't argue. I just don't openly stare at naked men I don't know. Call it well mannered, prudish, whatever".

Adam put the items down, on a shelf, and got back into the shower.

Not without a chuckle to himself...

* * *

Ten minutes later, the ex SWAT member was out of the shower, redressed, and leaving the bathroom.

"Have you eaten?"

He turned, and continued drying his hair, catching any wayward drips.

"No".

Marjorie sighed. "As I wasn't expecting company, I don't have much in the way of food.". She grabbed her purse, and looked into it. "Fuck it. Take out?"

Her lightly accented French voice sounded odd swearing, it didn't sound right.

The brunette man nodded. "Chinese?"

The brunette woman's eyes lit up. "Good man", she smiled, and turned, opening a drawer, and fishing out some takeout leaflets.

"Here, pick what you want. I figure if I'm about to be kicked out, I may as well spend what I do have on whatever I like".

Adam shook his head, and handed her a credit chit. Marjorie's eyes widened.

"That wasn't a hint. Whilst I appreciate the sentiment, I'll figure something out. I am a grown woman, shouldn't have to rely off of someone else".

Adam could relate to that, all too well. Many times, he wished to do things on his own. People wanted to help, and though it was nice, and he genuinely appreciated it, after what happened in the past, he preferred working alone now.

Marjorie was grabbing some tumblers, and wasn't focusing on him.

He appreciated that...

* * *

An hour later, the two were surrounded by Chinese food. Duck in plum sauce, fried rice, spring roles, won-ton, dim sum...it made both ravenous. Not very Chinese were the two large bottles of coke, but neither cared.

They grabbed some chopsticks, and tucked in...

* * *

Three days later found Adam, on his way, to meet Malik. He knew he needed to be back in Detroit. Clear his name, show his face, stop the press's hunt for him. He wasn't looking forward to it, Sarif's death was still raw, a fresh wound, to add to the vast collection on his augmented soul.

Marjorie walked part of the way with him, bought him some coffee and food, and wished him luck.

Adam knew, he may never see her again. Perhaps it was for the best, especially after what she saw the night prior...

* * *

 _11 hours ago_

Marjorie shot up, hearing what sounded like yowling. In her half asleep state, she assumed it was the woman above her apartment's dog. She felt herself drifting off, before hearing a whine.

The dog again? Her brain was making this up, just trying to fuck with her.

She screwed her eyes shut, and tried to calm herself.

A loud thud woke her fully, and she shot up far too fast. Swaying back and forth, Marjorie shook her head free of dizziness, and realised the sounds were coming from the living room.

She blinked a few times, and wiped the sleep from her eyes, before leaving her room.

* * *

The ceramic vase she had on her coffee table was now on the floor. The cherry blossom pattern was cracked, in a straight line. It's contents, fake gardenias, roses, and babies breath? Some were dangling precariously off the table, others on the carpet. Luckily, no water was in the vase, so Marjorie didn't need to worry about slipping on the wooden floor.

Adam's arm was touching the floor. When his fingers grazed the carpet, he flinched, but remained asleep. Marjorie raised an arched brown brow and sighed. He was having a nightmare. She wasn't a nanny, she wasn't about to wake him, and lull him into a peaceful sleep, with a lullaby.

Whimpering had her pinch the bridge of her nose. Part of her wanted to help, the nice part.

The horrible, annoyed part wanted to smack him. _That_ would jolt him awake.

The woman decided she would try and wake him, perhaps offer him a glass of water, something stronger, whatever he needed.

She padded over to the couch, and picked up the flowers. She placed them, and the partically damaged vase far away from Adam, lest he lash out, and actually shattered it.

She did NOT want to have to go through the carpet, with a fine tooth comb, looking for tiny shards of porcelain, before they ended up in her foot.

Them man on her couch twitched. Marjorie walked behind the couch, out of reach of any sudden jerk of his arms, and flicked his arm.

...

...Nothing.

Unsurprising, Marjorie barely used any force there.

She tapped his arm next. This garnered a twitch, and as if she had shocked him, he woke up, and stared, eyes unfocused at her.

Marjorie waved a hand in front of his eyes, when her wrist was grabbed.

Adam sat up, and his other hand grabbed her throat, clutching, as if he was trying to crush her windpipe. Her eyes went wide, and she grabbed his wrist.

She couldn't speak, all she could do with force air out of her mouth, involuntarily letting spit out with each harsh pant.

"G...t".

 _SLAP._

A loud sound reverberated throughout the room. Marjorie slapped him, and he let go of both her wrist and neck, slumping down, onto his knees.

Marjorie headed straight to the kitchen.

"There wasn't any rules, until _now_. No trying to murder the _one_ person who gives a crap enough, to help you".

She grabbed a steak knife, and stalked to her bedroom, grumbling as she did so. Refusing to look at Adam, she opened her bedroom door.

"You'd better leave, I don't appreciated being attacked, especially in my own home. I'll give you till the morning". If he was having a nightmare, it put him on edge. Likely, he didn't mean to hurt her, he just panicked and...

 _And? Why the fuck am I saying and? The man tried to kill me!_

Second guessing herself was one of few vices she had, and she despised it.

She looked back, only seeing a black shadow, and strange, vibrant green and yellow eyes, looking at her. Adam was tearing up.

"Marjorie...I'm".

She bit her lip, stopping any pent up anger from flooding out of her mouth.

"I know"...

* * *

Almost a month later, Marjorie was busy, packing up her things. She had several large cardboard boxes scattered about her home.

 _Her_ home...it wouldn't be that for much longer...She hadn't found a job, and didn't have the funds, to pay for the rent.

Adam had been in touch with her, and said he would be in Tokyo again, in a week. She wouldn't be here in a week's time. She didn't want to go out a crying mess of a woman however. So, she invited Adam around, for one last hurrah.

One last excuse, to get utterly drunk, drown her many sorrows.

God knows Adam had many too. He'd been declared innocent of any wrong doing, once the Police knew what Darrow was up too. The press however did not desist. They hounded him, found their way into his apartment building, and almost his apartment at one stage.

He couldn't have alone time in his own apartment anymore.

And when Pritchard started berating him, the older man decided he had enough. He left the office, and the building, unwilling to show his face there. Detroit didn't feel like home anymore.

The case against Megan was building. rapidly. Adam wasn't supposed to see her, but he broke into the police station, seeking answers. Just _how_ much had she lied about?

Memories flashed before his eyes, as he spoke with her.

 _Tangled up with her, allowing himself to feel, to give, take. He needed this, he always thought he'd keep her close to him, even if they never progressed any further, in their complicated relationship. The gasps, moans, softly spoken words, whispered promises, of love and devotion..._

 _I really shouldn't think of this..._

 _Vivid memories were burning his mind, poisoning it. Megan had lied, damaged him, taken his trust, ran with it..._

 _And yet, he still loved her. He couldn't throw it away, or turn it off. It wasn't a light switch. It wasn't that simple. It never was..._

 _She told him she loved him. Megan said she loved him. Did she? With his faith in her well and truly broken, he just couldn't believe that anymore. It pained him, his heart clenched, in part sadness, part anger._

 _If he let out the sadness, he wouldn't get back up again. He'd wallow in self pity, ignoring everyone and anyone, who tried to help._

 _If he let the anger out? He'd never been angry with Megan before. Annoyed? Yes. Angry? No. He wasn't quite sure how it would go, play out, so to speak._

 _He didn't wish to speak, so, he merely listened, to Megan's explanation._

* * *

He listened patiently, and yet, all she could say for herself was that without him, a breakthrough, in finding alternatives, to using Neuropozene would never have been made. Her and the team needed results, and were being pushed. Not only be Sarif, but by other interested parties. They did not know about Adam's altered DNA, his past, as a child, experimented on, by White Helix.

She'd kept all of that a secret, including the breakthrough. All Adam could think was...

 _My DNA? The hell did she even use?_

Did he actually _want_ to know? He wasn't so sure...

* * *

Rage bubbled up, and spilling forth, pouring, flowing freely from his mouth.

 _WHY!_

 _Why did you keep lying to me! How am I supposed to trust you EVER again, if you keep feeding me bull?_

Megan shrank back, eyes wide.

"Adam, please, listen to me. I'm sorry, but you have to know what was happening! What we were going through! Our deadline for an alternative for Neuropozene had come and gone five times".

Adam slammed his hands on the desk, the thud piercing the eerie silence.

"How did you know about me?"

Megan bit her cheek and sighed. "David gave me the file".

Adam stood up abruptly, and backed up, until his back was glued to the exit.

"What?" That one word took everything out of him. Lethargy crept into his limbs, as his world crumbled around him. Base foundations were breaking into shards, and he slumped down, boneless, onto the floor. Megan desperately wanted to help him...

But, she knew that look. The distant, faraway glaze. Adam wasn't in the room. He hadn't told her all of what happened to him as kid. Whenever he did talk about it, he'd curl up, revert right back, to the little boy, trapped, in a lab, with people prodding him with needles. Unknown substances in IV bags all around him, waiting to be hung up on drip stands.

Adam shivered, Megan closed her eyes, and looked away. Tears forced their way, out of her eyes, and fell off her lashes, onto her lap.

Adam surprised her, by forcing out some words.

"He shouldn't have shown you the file".

They were choked, he swallowed the lump in his throat, and looked his crying girlfriend in the eye.

"I would have told you. I just needed time. _You_ took that away from me".

Malice decorated the word 'you', creating a thick, heavy tension in the room. Megan shifted, eyes unable to stop streaming.

"I did tell him that. I asked him not to show me the file. But he was pushing me for results, and knew if I found out about your genetically altered DNA, that would be our breakthrough". She stood up, but remained behind the desk. "I _wanted_ to tell you Adam, I swear".

Adam smirked. "But you _didn't_ ". He stood up, and laughed, his sour mood crystal clear. "Is _that_ why you were acting off the day of the announcement? Why when I tried to calm you, you acted like I was your worst enemy?"

Megan didn't recall the day like that. She tried to block out the image of Adam, broken, being thrown around, as if he were an unwanted toy by Namir.

She grit her teeth. "Did I? When did I ever treat you like that?"

The augmented man shook his head, chuckling bitterly. "Plenty of times. I didn't know where I stood with you half the time". He walked up to the desk and put his hands on it. Megan glued her back to the chair.

"I never could fully understand you. I don't think you wanted me too. One minute, we'd be talking, then in bed, then you'd suddenly switch, turn into an ice queen. Both of us aren't the type to readily show our feelings. I know I can be distant, but I didn't understand. You said you _loved_ me. Did you mean that? Did you mean _ANY_ of that?"

Megan didn't nod, or shake her head. Her shoulders tensed. "I cared about you. I wasn't sure if it was love. I tried too, but _our_ work got in the way. I never got to be close to you for long, not as long as I would have liked".

A little venom in her tone surprised him, he wasn't sure why she was annoyed. Did she even have a right to be annoyed?

Megan frowned, and raised her eyebrows. "Oh...I get it now. Yes, I made mistakes, yes, I lied to you. But don't you dare act like I am an evil bitch, when you made mistakes too".

Adam couldn't believe his ears. He ignored the waves of Beta in his retinal display, gritting his teeth.

"I never said I was. You of all people know I am not innocent. Fuck".

He shook his head disbelievingly. "I can't do this anymore. I hate bullshit, and refuse to take that from someone I...".

He paused, wishing to close the book on all the madness.

But, his pause spoke volumes for Megan, she knew what he was about to say.

"From someone you love, right?" Acidic laughter fell from her lips. "You shouldn't. We cause each other pain. We have too many secrets, distrust, and that will kill any chance, of there being an us again".

Adam nodded. "You're right there".

He walked to the door, and looked for the surveillance room, to wipe the cameras.

Megan walked around the table, with a hand out.

"So, we're through? Lets not end this on a bad note". She dared to reach out, and tilt Adam's head to face her.

"Anything I have done to hurt you, I am so sorry. I never meant to cause you pain, despite it looking so. I don't expect you to forgive me".

Adam did look at her, his now 'ex', and bit his cheek. He trembled, a full body tremble. He swore under his breath.

He managed a small smile, though, it was an honest one.

"I'll try".

Megan nodded, and watched him leave the room, before crumpling to the floor, bursting out crying. She needed to let out her sadness, the sorrow.

Let it all go.

And little did she know that when Adam got home, he curled up, on his bed, and did the exact same thing...

* * *

Friday found Adam, outside Marjorie's apartment. The past week has been a blur for him. Dealing with Frank was too much to bear, the agent wished to drink, or do something illegal, to cope. Purge himself, vomit his way into oblivion. Ever since he had his operation, his alcohol tolerance had decreased dramatically. After one beer, one, measly beer, with hardly any fucking booze in it, he'd feel a little dizzy.

That pissed him off, so much so, he stupidly tested his new 'limit', and spent the night, saying 'hello' to God, on the big white telephone.

He grunted, and knocked on the door.

Marjorie answered cautiously. No wonder, with his previous antics...

"If I let you in, I don't want to have to fend you off, with a knife, _again._ Promise me you aren't going to try and murder me".

Adam chuckled, despite himself. Marjorie did too. "Behave, or that knife may make reappearance".

She let him in, and looked at the large steak knife. Adam walked in, and looked at it.

"I won't try to kill you".

His nose picked up the delectable scent of herb chicken, and he nodded his approval.

"Hope you haven't eaten. It'd be a shame to waste this fucking amazing chicken quiche, if I do say so myself".

That took Adam aback. The addition of fuck made him smirk. Marjorie wasn't messing around. She had fire in her belly, and he admired that. He wondered if people had tried to douse it, keep it down. He knew that, he too needed someone to stoke the flame, not throw water on it.

His stomach rumbling pulled him from his thoughts. It had been a while, since he had eaten a proper meal. Existing off cereal, protein bars, energy drinks and alcohol wasn't good for him. He'd lost weight, his shoulder blades were prominent, so were his hipbones. His ribs were almost visible, and this worried him. At first, he couldn't care less.

When he got below a certain weight however, _then_ he panicked. His body was losing strength, pre-augmentation strength. He'd been fairly strong before that. These metal additions made him powerful, on the outside.

On the inside? He may have a reinforced metal rib cage, but he felt weak, vulnerable, and he utterly hated that.

Marjorie was still waiting for an answer. She tapped her foot, on the wooden floor, giving off impatience.

Adam offered a sheepish smile. "I am hungry. Smells good".

Marjorie huffed, and laughed softly.

"I figured you were", she walked by him, and into the kitchen, "Your stomach gave it away".

She pointed to the couch. "You can sit you know. Unless you eat standing up, whatever".

Adam laughed, and sat down.

* * *

His host brought in a big bowl of colourful salad, and cutlery. She put the cutlery on a napkin, and the bowl in front of those.

"What do you want to drink? I have booze, booze, more booze...oh, and water", she giggled nervously, with a tinge of sadness mixed in, "I don't have too much. This is the last of the food. God", she sighed, "I sound destitute. I'm not by the way".

As if she needed to confirm that, Adam knew she wasn't.

"Where are you staying?"

When the older woman shook her head, Adam frowned, lines marred his forehead.

"Calm down, I'll be fine. I'm not a charity case, I can manage on my own".

Adam blinked, and withdrew his shades. "I never said you were. Stop being defensive. Here".

He took out a credit chit, and held it in his palm. Marjorie's usually stormy grey eyes seemed to soften their haze.

"I can't take that. Besides, the landlord wants me out in three days. He needs a new renter pronto. The guy's anal about money", she started ranting, "Hell, I payed him every month, on time. I never missed a payment, yet, asshole is acting like I never payed. All I needed was a little leeway, just some time to find another job. He gives me just over a month. I have an interview...in four days. But that's not good enough for him".

The timer in the kitchen pinged.

"Forget it. The food is done".

Marjorie stood, and put her long light brown hair into a bun.

"Fuck, I can never find my hair ties".

She rooted around the sofa, until she found one underneath.

Once her hair was tied, she went into the kitchen, grabbed her oven gloves, and took out the tray withe quiche on it. Then, she took out another, with roast potatoes on it. She smiled at her work, and grabbed two plates.

After serving up the quiche and potatoes, she walked to the table, and put down the plates.

"I'm getting some water. Want some?"

Adam nodded. "Thanks".

Marjorie waved him off, grabbing a pitcher of ice water, from the kitchen, and some glasses...

* * *

"So, what was Darrow like as a boss?"

Marjorie put her plate down, and sipped some water.

"He could be brash, imposing, or rather quiet. You never knew what you would get, on any given day. Towards the end of last year, he seemed more like he had his panties yanked too far up his ass. His aides were nervous, they looked like they'd puke every time he spoke to them. That's all I know. Well, that, and the manager of my floor was a bastard. He was at least sixty, but somehow thought that me wearing a skirt was a come on to him. It wasn't, all of my pants were in the wash, so I wore a skirt. Tried backing me up, into a storage room".

Adam got concerned where this was headed.

"What happened?"

Marjorie smirked.

"What _did_ you do?"

Now Adam smirked.

"I kneed him, _hard._ I said no several times, he wasn't getting the hint. So, I gave him the hint instead".

Adam shook his head, and smiled.

"I'd better wash up. Almost all of my things are packed, so I can breathe a little easier".

Adam stood up. "I'll do it".

A smile crept onto the woman's face, and she sat back down, handing him the plates.

* * *

Adam left for his hotel at around 2 am, and decided he would help Marjorie out. Repay her, for letting him stay in her apartment. He felt he should, she was one of only a few not to treat him badly after all.

He payed a visit to her landlord's apartment, after hacking into her building's records. He payed her rent for six months. He also ensured that the man would not kick her out.

When he next saw Marjorie, she had a huge box in her hands, that was she moving into her bedroom.

"Why did I get an email, from a certain tosser, telling me that a 'tall, broody man in black' payed my rent, and also threatened him, if he kicked me out?"

She laughed, and almost dropped the box. "You sly devil. I told you I didn't need that", she sighed, admitting defeat, though she was grateful, "I appreciate it though".

Adam took that as a 'thank you', and took the box off her.

"Thanks".

Marjorie had to sit down, her stomach began aching, she could not stop laughing.

She began coughing, and had to lie down.

"He called you 'handsome' by the way. His words, not mine. Looks like you've pulled".

Adam laughed, but it felt forced, like he had to. Megan flashed through his mind. Her visage permeated his mind, he couldn't remove it. His heart couldn't take much more, it felt like someone was twisting it. If this kept up, he'd end up drinking himself into oblivion, for the fourth time this month...

Marjorie stood up, sounding concerned. "You okay? You've been in there a while".

Adam grunted, and put the box down.

He walked out, but didn't speak. He merely picked up another box, this one marked 'kitchen'...

* * *

A few hours later, Marjorie was sipping hot chocolate. Adam had been silent during the time he was here, and it bugged her. She knew he was going through something, but from his attitude, she assumed he was the type, who bottled things up. He exuded the 'I am a man, I don't feel emotions' trope. She rolled her eyes. Why men couldn't be anything other than 'ugg' me man, hear me grunt' baffled her. Men opening up wasn't weakness to her. Adam was stressed, and she wanted to know why, and she wanted to help.

Marjorie went and got changed into her pajamas, and sat cross-legged beside him.

"Okay grumpy, what's happened? You seem moodier than usual".

 _Fuck it, no point lying._

"I broke into a police station, to find out why my girlfriend did what she did. We talked, broke down, broke up. That was a week ago".

Usually shifty light grey eyes softened, and she patted his shoulder.

"Ah. Sorry to hear that. She hurt you?" Marjorie hummed. "You don't deserve that. Yeah, you're moody, and a little standoffish, but that's okay. I am a moody, standoffish bitch, I can relate".

Adam smiled, she did in return. "See? Isn't smiling nice?" She yawned. "I won't ask you to tell me. It's not my business".

Adam answered her, to her astonishment.

"Megan was a scientist. With the increases in Neuropozene deaths, she and her team needed something that augmented people could use, that could eliminate all use of the drug".

He stopped, and shut his eyes.

"She...used me".

His sudden silence was abrupt, but the woman understood why he was reluctant to speak. This was clearly a painful, traumatic experience for him.

Marjorie wasn't good at sympathy. She did feel it, but, expressing it? Another story...

"Er", she stalled, internally panicking, "shouldn't you be getting back to your hotel?"

The man in black stood, and left the flat, without a peep, leaving behind a perplexed Marjorie.

* * *

Broken, drunk and feeling immensely sorry for himself, Adam found himself, in the elevator, of Marjorie's apartment building. Why he was here, he could not discern the truth. In his drunken arrogance, he thought perhaps she could keep him company for the night. The job he had finished a few hours prior hadn't helped his 'lack of a sex life'. He'd been after a brothel owner, who had been suspected of aiding in trafficking minors, all around the globe. Some of those were as young as eleven. It made Adam sick, nausea fought with indignation in his gut. It throbbed away, taking his mind off the potentially dangerous situation he was in. He posed as a client, noting as he walked in that man he was looking for had a magnum attached to his belt. The ex-SWAT did not wish to be shot, especially with a gun so powerful, it would make him look like pinata, after a few shots.

Some of the older women all over him. He blocked out most of it, until a rather attractive woman, who looked like an ex of his walked into the room, with a tiny scrap of red satin between her legs, and a matching bra that was too small for her bust. It spilled out, and as she swayed her hips, something primal clicked in Adam's brain. She wrapped an arm around his waste. Another snaked a hand closer to his groin, and that was when he snapped out of it. He decided he'd need to question the girl with her arm around him. So, he walked into a room with her, and shut the door...

* * *

Nothing happened between him, and the woman. He didn't intend anything. She knew all about her boss' dealings in trafficking, telling him everything she knew. She stripped however, to make it look like something had happened, when another woman checked up on her, after half an hour. Adam, to his credit managed to look, without flushing, like a pubescent kid, looking at breasts.

He was glad for his shades though, his eyes practically bulged out of their sockets at the sight.

That wasn't the only thing that bulged...

She was utterly gorgeous too. Tanned skin, long legs, eyes of melted chocolate, not slim, but not big, hair the tumbled down, in dark brown curls.

He recalled she was likely very young...

He shivered at that. She noticed that and put on a robe.

The Police were called soon into the 'rendezvous', and once they had gathered evidence, and taken what Adam had on the guy, they took him away.

Adam made sure the girls were okay, before he left.

* * *

After this, he got wasted, thinking it would dampen down his current state of body. It didn't do jack shit. He hadn't gone anywhere near what was left of his human body after his operation. He didn't want to touch himself, not with something so cold, deadly, lifeless, no matter how hard he ended up. He'd just focus, on shifting blood, from one head to the other. His body ignored his brain however, and kept reacting to what he had seen that evening.

He swore, and made the split second decision, to go to Marjorie's flat. Despite it being past 1 am, he knew she'd be up.

* * *

A knock on her door woke a drifting off Marjorie. She sighed, and sat up, putting a hand through her tatted hair.

She knew who it would be, as she walked to the door. No one visited her, other than Adam and her landlord Soren. And Soren would come ridiculously early in the morning, but not _this_ early.

 _Not at 2 am anyway._

A paler face Adam stood there, and the smell wafting from him confirmed why he looked peaky.

"You reek. You'd better not vomit on my carpet. This is a Persian rug that was only just cleaned".

Adam shook his head, so she let him in. Shortly after that, she opened her spare bathroom door, and gave him a bag, just in case.

"Not taking any chances", Marjorie sniffed him, and grimaced, "You smell like cheap perfume and booze. Hire a hooker huh?"

Adam's eyes widened, and he shook his head again.

"I may just do that, haven't had any in so long, I may have sealed up".

They both laughed. "I'm kidding. Anyway, you seem oddly happy. Figured you'd got some". She remembered their previous conversation, about him, and his ex.

Maybe she shouldn't have suggested he may have just had sex, with a hooker?

She grit her teeth, and hoped he didn't remember any of this, the next morning.

"Listen, I'd love to chat, but I am exhausted. I had two interviews today, either side of Tokyo, and it took hours just to get there".

She washed a glass, and took some painkillers from the kitchen cupboard.

She placed the in front of Adam.

"You'll need these later I'll bet". She pointed to the open door, just off to the right of the couch.

"That's my spare bathroom. Had it installed as I didn't want anyone having to traipse through my room, just to piss. Use it, or the bag, _not_ the floor, okay?"

Marjorie grabbed a blanket, and placed it beside Adam.

"Bonne nuit Adam".

* * *

Marjorie thought she'd wake up to groans, and spewing noises, horrible wretches...

But no. She awoke, to the smell of coffee, and...

 _Waffles? Since when did I have waffles?_

She rolled onto her back, and yawned. A quick glance at the clock told her it was 1 pm. She stretched, and sighed happily, as her limbs popped and muscles stretched.

* * *

Curiosity bit at her, so she decided to forgo a shower for a bit, and see what Adam was up too.

She did indeed find coffee and waffles, on the table in front of her.

She gaped at Adam. "I thought you'd be violently ill now. Yet I find you, cooking? You're an odd one".

Adam looked at her, and shrugged. "What, you want me to be ill?"

He smirked. " _Violently_ I add? _"_

Marjorie rolled her eyes. "Of course not. I was remarking on how pale you were last night. You looked fragile, so I worried".

Adam kept the smirk, and looked her, square in the eye. "No, you were more worried about the _carpet_ ".

The man grinned, and nodded. "A three-thousand credit rug, who wouldn't be?" She scanned him over, a little longer than she should have.

She coughed. "At least you don't look like death anymore".

She sat down and inhaled the delicious caramel smell, wafting from the waffles. "Haven't had waffles since I was a kid. Thanks Adam".

She meant that. He took it gladly. "Welcome".

Marjorie took the plate, and put it on her lap.

As she cut into the waffle, she smiled, recalling fond memories.

"These take me back".

Adam sat next to her. "Did wonder about your accent".

Marjorie's grey eyes and smile became wistful. "Yeah, my family traveled a lot, when I was a kid. I was born in Toulouse, but have spent some years in London, Canberra, Tokyo, that's how I came to love here, and Kyoto. I am French born and bred, but I sound English, its odd I know".

She made quite a few 'mmm' noises, enjoying her food.

"Figured since you've helped me out a few times, this is the least I could do".

She nodded. "It is the _least,_ yes".

Brown brows rose, at the way Marjorie had said 'least'.

She smirked. "Calm your pecks, I was joking". She sighed. "I've known you what, a few weeks, and you've just gotten out of a relationship. That, and I don't let men I barely know in me".

Adam choked on a piece of waffle. "Fucking hell Marjorie". He drank some warm coffee. "Christ, you don't mess around, do you?"

Marjorie shook her head. "Nope. i spent a time doing that, being people's bitch", she grimaced, "never again".

"I know that, got sick of being walked over. Ended up getting sacked".

Marjorie scoffed. "You, someone's bitch? Never. You aren't the type".

Adam's tone turned serious. "I was in SWAT. My team were in Malaysia. Someone had sold us out, and split us up, into smaller groups. They picked us off, one by one. When I decided to fight back, instead of letting the bastards murder my friends, I got shit for it. Got sanctioned, and sacked, when we got back to base".

"For fighting back? What, you should have let them murder you? Merde".

Adam nodded. "My superior lost it, started beating me, told me to get out. So I did. Ended up finding a job online, in Detroit, complete life change. Head of security. I took it".

He went quiet, in reflection, remembrance, as David crossed his mind. Never again would he hear that slightly acidic tone, the fatherly bond he had with Adam would stick with him, he knew that much.

"Anyway, how about you?"

Marjorie finished her meal, and pushed out her stomach.

"God, I look pregnant now", she laughed. "Me? I have been a secretary since I was eighteen, first in a doctor's office, then a hospital, and then started working for Hugh".

She sighed. "Got sacked from the first two, managed to keep the third though, for eleven years".

Adam raised a brow, and a corner of his mouth. "Sacked? Why?"

Sad memories flooded into her brain, and she bristled. Adam didn't need his C.A.S.I.E aug, to know she was uncomfortable.

"You don't have to tell me".

Marjorie shrugged. "Eh, I have to talk about it at some point. The first job I had, all the people there were lovely, at least, I thought they were. I got let go, because someone lied. Told the doctor that I was smoking on the job. I wasn't. Several people did however, that's why the office smelt of tobacco. I did smoke at the time, but not in the office. I never found out who said it, glad I didn't, I would have slapped them. I was a student, broke, I needed the job, the experience, but I got sacked, after seven months".

She finished her coffee before continuing. "The hospital? You can imagine how that went. I was there for four years. After that time, I just couldn't do it anymore. It was a constant loop of people vomiting, bleeding, crying out in agony in front of me. It broke me for a long time. I thought I was stronger than that. But no, I told colleagues I was struggling, so one of them went to my boss, and asked for help. Instead of helping me, she sacked me, despite saying she regretted it, as I was proficient in the job, and got on well with everyone".

She slouched. "I know, it was a hospital, what did I expect? I guess I didn't think I would _see_ any of that. I got to know many patients too. They were the nicest people, most didn't make it. They were so brave, they never complained, or wanted anything. I'd get some of them flowers, plastic of course, real flowers aren't allowed in wards. And little gifts for the kids, teddies, toys, sweets, things like that".

She began tearing up. Adam scooted closer, moving the plates as he did so. Marjorie moved away.

"Don't, okay? I'm fine".

Adam rolled his eyes. She wasn't fine, he knew that. He just wished she could be honest with him.

But, he went along with her. "Okay", he held up his hands, in surrender, "I'll wash up. You have an interview later, right?"

She began to blub. "How did you know that?"

Adam pointed at the calendar affixed to the wall of the kitchen.

The woman buried her face. "I'm sorry".

Adam put the plates in the sink, partially filled it, and walked back over to the couch.

"Why are you sorry? You don't have anything to apologise for".

She couldn't stop, watery grey eyes, misty from tears looked at him, the whites rapidly became red and sore.

Adam lent over the back of the couch, and hugged her back. She flinched, so he backed away.

Marjorie wasn't the 'touchy feely' type. When she was upset, she preferred to be alone.

Now? She wasn't alone, and felt terrible for wanting to kick Adam out. He was only trying to help. He could have ignored her, or berated her, as if she were a troublesome child. He wasn't the type, he actually seemed _genuine_ , in his want to help her.

She didn't struggle anymore, she didn't have the strength too. She turned, got up onto her knees, and hugged him, apologising again and again.

Adam merely held her, and rubbed her back, in an attempt to calm her.

* * *

Marjorie came back from her interview, to an empty apartment. Adam needed to be in Detroit, as meetings were being held, to appoint someone, to replace Sarif, as Sarif Industries CO. As he was the head of security, it was deemed he should be in attendance, Frank too.

So, she was alone. She was used to this, having lived alone for most of her life. Still, the apartment felt cold, alien alone now. Even though Adam had only stayed a few days, Marjorie felt like she knew him a little, and didn't mind his company.

He had his life and path however, and she had hers, and they did not intertwine...

* * *

 _Two weeks later, December 18th, 2027_

Marjorie had an offer to go out for drinks, with a few ex-colleagues, and truth be told, she didn't want to go.

Her social life was non-existent, and since Adam had payed her rent, and the drinks wouldn't be bought by her, she decided to go.

She got dolled up, in a sequined silver dress that hugged and caressed her small figure.

She wanted attention, she'd been single for over five years, and that relationship had bored her. Her ex was lazy, would make her do all chores, never got off the couch, and was hopeless in bed. What she needed was a one night thing. A fling, with someone who knew what they were doing. She tired of her own hand, and almost stopped using it completely.

She placed her phone, mints, keys, and condoms into her purse. If she was going to have a fling, coil or not, she wasn't about to risk catching anything, or having a baby.

On that note, she left her flat, and got into a friend's car.

* * *

"So", her friend Alison asked, as they sat down in a booth, "Met anyone yet?"

Marjorie shook her head. "Nope, still drier than the Sahara desert. It's pissing me off. I get that I am not some sweet, innocent little thing, but can guys really not handle a girl, with a strong opinion and who isn't a train wreck?"

 _Adam could,_ her brain chimed in.

Alison sighed. "Seems they can't, huh".

 _He just broke up with his girlfriend. I sound like a whore..._

Marjorie picked up her drink, and drank some of it. "Fuck it. I want attention, and I am getting it. Sick of hanging back".

Alison smirked. "Get it girl. Just be careful you don't end up with an asshole", she squinted, "Or a riddled asshole".

Her older friend widened her eyes. Two more of her friends arrived then, closely followed by three more.

* * *

After a few hours, Marjorie had only found one guy that she liked the look of. She hadn't spoken to him yet, and didn't wish to screw him, based on looks alone. Men had to have more than just looks for her. They had to have functioning brain cells, be able to think for themselves, and understand that she took precautions seriously. If the lacked any of those, she would be turned off.

They also had to have a sense of humor. Marjorie's mind was rather smutty, and she needed a man, who thought a similar way. Otherwise, she'd scare them off, with her dirty and dark humor.

Her loquacious ways would often bore men, who just wanted sex. They didn't want to talk. They wanted her legs in the air, whilst they got themselves off, completely ignoring her, and her needs.

 _Adam has a sense of humor, he can handle my brain, and what comes out of my mouth. He doesn't get annoyed when I talk either..._

Her platinum blond friend, Alison notified her that the man she was looking at was on the move, to the bar.

She pushed her older friend towards him.

Marjorie sighed, and tried to gather her thoughts, not come across as a drunk idiot.

 _Brain, wanting what is forbidden isn't always a good thing._

 _Right, this guy..._

* * *

He was even better looking up close. Marjorie would estimate around 5'8, sand coloured hair, bit of scruff on his chin, a well groomed mustache, and skin that looked like it had been covered in honey. The man was gorgeous, she just hoped he didn't have his head rammed up his own arse.

"Want one?"

The man looked at her, and she nodded.

"Sure. Double whiskey on the rocks, with lemon, and a sugar cube please".

The man smiled. "Specific. I like it", he gave a credit chit to the bartender, "I'll have a beer".

"Marjorie". She clinked her glass with his beer after they were served.

The man smiled. "Jackson".

He offered his hand, and she shook it.

He took a swig of his beer, and looked at her.

"And no, unlike the sleazy men over there", he pointed, to a darkened corner of the bar, where a few guys were there, with their hands, almost under the dresses of the women sitting next to them, "I am not here to do _that"._

Marjorie looked, and wished she hadn't. Despite her thinking it wasn't rational, to do something like that in public, her body thought differently.

She sighed.

 _Its been THAT long, my body is starting to think things that I don't even like are interesting. Then it decides to flare up, make me blush, and start perspiring._

"Just because you're in a bar, that does not mean you are a sleazeball. Got it. I can tell you aren't one anyway. Most are very upfront about it. Within minutes, they want to know if they can screw me, against the back wall of whatever club I am in. And when I say no"...

Jackson knew what she was going to say. "They call you out, right? Never understand guys who do that. If a girl doesn't want to mess around, that's fine, but don't be a shit about it afterwards".

She agreed completely. "So", she squeezed the lemon slice into her drink, "What does bring you here?"

Swirling hazel eyes looked into hers. Marjorie found herself steadily captivated by them.

"I am supposed to be meeting someone here. But they don't seem to be coming. What brings you here?"

He nodded his approval, at her dress. "I began feeling lonely, sad I know".

Jackson shook his head. "We all feel like that sometimes".

Marjorie glanced at the friends, and they were all occupied, talking with others. Two men walking in, beside her friend's tables took her attention. And when she saw who the second was, she tried not to lose her cool.

Adam...

He waltzed right on over, and grabbed Jackson. Marjorie glared at him, before realising that he worked in security. If Jackson was a threat, he needed to be removed from the building.

Just when she'd found someone she got on with, and could stand for a change too...

* * *

The woman snarled her discontent, when he walked over to her. He grit his teeth, and practically growled at her.

"He had a bomb vest on him. He was waiting for his brother, the man you just saw with me. He also had a bomb vest. But please, tell me how lovely he was".

Marjorie understood the gravity of the situation, but didn't think that warranted Adam's attitude.

"He _was_ rather nice actually. However, I don't want to die right now, nor do my friends, or anyone else in this club, for that matter. Drink?"

Adam ignored her, walking off, in the bathrooms. Marjorie shook off her disbelief, and walked over to her friends.

* * *

The least drunk of the five managed to get out a few words.

"What's his problem?"

She gestured to the bathroom. Marjorie knew she couldn't tell the truth. Sophie wouldn't remember it, but still...

"I guess he really needed a pis".

Sophie laughed, and offered to buy her another drink. "No thanks. I'd better go".

Sophie looked worried, and wobbly, as she sat on her stool. "Is he upsetting you? I can get the bouncer if he is".

Her words were becoming slurred. "No, I just found out the guy I was chatting too wasn't like I thought he was, that's all. I'm going to leave. Take care girls. You all have condoms, right?"

Giggly laughter came from all five ladies, and they blushed.

"Only making sure you are safe, you know that". She tched. "I was always the level headed one among us, no matter how many drinks I had".

She hugged Sophie, but was jumped by her other friends, and ended up in the middle, surrounded by arms and laughter.

She left the bar, and walked out, into the quiet Tokyo streets.

* * *

Her walk stopped abruptly, when her arm was grabbed, and she was pulled, into a dark alley.

She turned to punch this brazen idiot, when she realised it was Adam.

Marjorie raised a brow. "What the hell is your problem?! You saved the day, didn't you? You saved me, my friends, the others. You're the archetypal hero".

Adam growled. "Don't call me that".

She smirked. "What, hero, or archetypal?"

When he lowered his head, it hit her what he was after.

"Is this what I think this is? You want me to be your rebound girl? Why should I?"

Adam placed his hands either side of her body.

"Because if you didn't, you'd have hit me by now, and I wouldn't have stopped you".

His strangely coloured eyes held something, she wasn't quite sure what, but it caused a shiver to go up her spine.

"Okay, you're right. Tell me though", she squared up to him, despite him being almost a foot taller than her. She whispered, "Why should I?"

Adam looked less frustrated now, and he relaxed his shoulders.

"You and I don't tolerate bullshit, we understand each other, and we know what we want in this world. How many can you say have that?"

Marjorie couldn't think of many who did. She could not argue.

She thought she had life figured out, a long time ago:

 _You study, gain and education, work hard._

 _You make friends, enemies, take lovers, perhaps settle down._

 _You work among others, to better, or perhaps take away, from something or someone._

She thought she had her last stand, when she almost ended up homeless, in utter despair.

And then, here comes along this man, carrying a hard shell, like herself, but fragile on the inside.

He had been through much, hell and back were his constant companions, his life.

 _This_ was her last stand. She could either walk away from Adam, from her life, her friends...

Or she could burn in his inferno.

And god, how she wanted to burn...

She gained a modicum of courage, and used it, as best she could.

"Okay", she purred, "But, why should I let you in?"

Adam stayed back, but kept his nose nuzzled into her neck.

"I'll never bullshit you, promise you what I know I can't do, I won't lie, or harm you. No one will ever harm you".

Marjorie bit her bottom lip. "How unfair. You can use what's inside your body to find my weaknesses. How am I ever to know yours?" She grinned, a naughty, cheeky grin. "What makes you squirm, tick", she lowered her voice again, "Growl".

He did just that, and she squirmed. "Don't".

The man knew she had made a decision, when she raised her head, and bared her neck. He was quick to bite it. Marjorie had to stifle the noise that threatened to come out. He took in her dress, and hummed his approval. He then wolf-whistled, for good measure, making her blush.

"Come on then".

Marjorie took his hand, and wrapped hers around his waist, as they strolled off, to hail a taxi.

* * *

When they arrived back at her place, Adam kissed her roughly. Marjorie loved that, and gave as good as she got.

She pulled him into her bedroom, and threw caution to the wind...

* * *

The pair lay there after sex. Marjorie sat up, breathing heavily, leaning back on her hands.

She turned and faced away from him. "That wasn't what I expected". She rubbed her face, and some makeup transferred onto them, She frowned, and looked at her pillow. It too had makeup on it. She stood, and moved away, when Adam went to take her hand. He frowned, and rolled onto his side.

In the bathroom, Marjorie took off her makeup, which took a while. She reflected on what had just happened.

It really wasn't what she expected, it was worse. It wasn't bad per-say, but it was like she wasn't in the room. Adam just focused on himself. He didn't spare a thought, a care for how she was feeling. She wanted to swear, break something. She was wound up, and didn't think she'd have to do it herself. The least her companion could have done was helped her out.

The most he could have done was exhausted both of them, to the point where she no longer cared that he pillow was a covered in foundation, and mascara flaked off, ending up under her eyes.

When she was finished, she cleaned herself up, washed her hands, and grabbed some panties, when she walked back in the bedroom.

* * *

It was dark, so she couldn't see Adam too well. He could see her, and knew she wasn't happy.

She confirmed this, by getting back into bed, and facing away from him.

He snorted, then felt he shouldn't have.

"Didn't think I was that bad".

Marjorie curled up. "You were okay, but you may as well have screwed a pillow. It was like you went into a trance, you only wanted to get off. Should buy you a body pillow, same thing really".

Adam's head was spinning, and he couldn't fully focus.

"What?"

She sighed. "I know no man wants to hear that. I just prefer getting off too. I don't appreciate having to do it myself".

Adam was confused, until his brain cells began to return, and he realised she was right. He had only focused on himself.

That, and he'd just rebounded. Shame coursed throughout his body.

 _Shit...the hell am I playing at?_

 _I just had sex with someone I barely know, all for gratification._

 _I used her body, I used her_.

Marjorie wouldn't look at him. He understood why, he had effectively hurt her, and he could tell she was pissed. Her body was rigid, and he could hear soft sniffles.

 _Fuck._

She was upset, really upset.

He stood, redressed, and put his blanket over her body, leaving the room, to sleep on the couch...

* * *

Adam just wanted a coffee, and to leave. He knew it was the cowards way out. He had gotten up, after only a few hours sleep. The sun had barely risen, all of that, just to get out, before Marjorie woke up.

Since when was he a coward? He never had been. He wasn't one, for having sex, then sneaking off, like a thief in the night.

Half asleep Adam clipped his hip, against the counter in the kitchen, and swore, loudly.

He rubbed his hip, and tried to stretch it out. He didn't hear any movement from the bedroom, so he thought he was in the clear.

He wasn't. Marjorie popped her head around the door frame.

"You really like frightening me, that you're going to ruin something in here",

She laughed. She was joking with him. She walked over, once her eyes had adjusted.

"We're trying this again, and this time, _remember,_ _I_ am in the room too".

She placed her hands on his chest.

"Do it right, or not at all I say".

She cautiously put her hand in his. "I'm giving you another chance".

Adam chuckled. "Nice of you".

Marjorie cheesy grinned. "What can I say, I am a lovely person. I just hide it behind the bitch".

He went to speak, but she put a finger to his lips.

"Don't talk, _do_ ".

The man nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes made Marjorie's stomach twist pleasantly.

* * *

Afterwards, they decided to stay in bed for the day.

Marjorie was happy for the first time in a long while.

"Much better".

She sighed blissfully, and smacked Adam's chest, as he laughed, before joining in herself.

* * *

As weeks turned into months, a pattern was emerging. Adam would see Marjorie a few times a month. They wouldn't always sleep together, they were content with chatting and getting to know each other.

But, Marjorie held something back from him, her fear of what this was becoming. Her relationships were wonderful at first, by rapidly turned into train wrecks. And she knew that she could be the cause of that. She never wanted to hurt anyone, but her personality was strong, fiery, and some men saw that as harsh, uncaring, so they avoided her.

She couldn't and _wouldn't_ hurt Adam. She told herself this was a friends-with-benefits situation. Both got what they wanted, feelings did not enter their mind, or get in the way.

Or did they?...

She was second guessing herself, and it caused anxiety to bubble in her gut. How did Adam feel about this? _Them?_ She made a mental note to ask him when she next saw him.

Did she _like_ him? She knew what love was, had experienced it when younger, and knew it wasn't that. It was more of an understanding, between the two.

She received an email from him, just before her birthday, stating that he was coming to visit her.

She wouldn't ever admit it, but she smiled when she saw it...

And there was that stomach twist again, accompanied by that slight intake of breath.

Had Adam wormed his way in? Somehow gotten beneath the layers of acidity she put around her, for good reason? She was caustic because she when she did let people close, they'd run when she needed them, or tire of her acerbic wit and humor.

With Adam? She could be as caustic as she liked, he didn't run, or tell her to stop. He had a similar humor, though he was not as vocal with it as her.

She sighed, and finished her toast and tea, before grabbing her bag and keys, and leaving for work.

It took her four months, but she got a job, as an secretary, at the local L.I.M.B Clinic.

* * *

"Jensen".

Adam walked into Frank's office, upon hearing his name.

"Frank, I do have a name you know".

Frank pondered that, and tilted his head.

"Yes, you do. Anyway. Jensen, who is Marjorie Taylor?"

Adam did a double take. "Yes, I know her name£". Frank turned in his chair. "What's going on? You've been in Tokyo a lot recently".

He raised a brow, when Adam stood, thinking on his answer. "She's a friend".

The brow rose further. "A friend? You have those?"

Adam rolled his eyes. "Yes _Francis_ , I have friends".

"I spoke with Faridah. She seems to think something is going on between you two. Is this true?"

Adam's eyes met Frank's, and he shook his head, though it was halfhearted.

"Of course not".

Frank seemed to take that, and sat back.

But, as Adam walked away, he said something, that made nerves flare up in his gut.

"You never could lie to me Adam. Whatever this thing is, between you, and Marjorie, it isn't right. You'll only hurt her".

The older man's eyes started to sting. He swore, and forced himself to keep walking.

He would not let _this_ get to him. Not now.

* * *

 _Thirty six. I am thirty six years old, and still not had kids. That's a big 'fuck you' to the people, who said I'd change my mind. I never did._

She sighed. Her Mother wanted grandchildren, and as Marjorie was an only child, she has the burden thrust upon her to procreate. She didn't want too however. She didn't like kids. Lacking a maternal instinct was the first sign her brain gave her, that having children wasn't for her.

Then babysitting for someone else's child gave her two more reasons, not to become a parent. Getting no sleep, and the constant vomit, and the constant nappy changes. She'd end up covered in sick, and retching herself.

Marjorie stood up, upon hearing a rapping on her front door.

She smiled despite herself, and opened the door. The first thing that struck her was that Adam wasn't dressed like he usually was.

 _Like an extra in The Matrix._

She chuckled at that. He was in a suit, custom made, so it would go over his augs. If you didn't know most of his body was augmented, you would never have guessed now.

"What's the occasion? Don't get me wrong", she looked at the charcoal grey suit, and approved immediately, "I love a good suit, but, are we going somewhere? I would have gotten ready, had I known".

Currently, Marjorie still had her pajama's on and her hair was all over the place.

"Yeah, I was planning on taking you out for lunch".

Marjorie panicked. "Well fuck. I have a love, hate relationship with surprises. Okay", she scampered off to the bathroom, "Give me an hour".

Adam shook his head, and smirked. "An hour? Why do you need an hour?"

"You want me to look nice, right? Smell nice? Be all _smooth_... _that's_ why I need an hour".

She went into the bathroom. Adam walked in, shut the door, and put the kettle on.

He'd be here a while, may as well have a coffee and a smoke...

* * *

It was a good job he had finished the coffee, and put the mug down, when Marjorie came out of the bathroom, in only a towel. He would have dropped the damn mug otherwise...

She held a hanger in each hand. One had a slinky little red number on it, and the other had a white and black playsuit on it.

"Wasn't sure what to wear. The dress is evening wear, and since it's 2 pm, it isn't appropriate. The playsuit can be worn at any time, but it's a bugger to get off, and it may come across as me, trying to look younger. Adam?"

She just had to ask him. He didn't have a clue about either outfit. So, he went out on a limb.

"Playsuit. You're right about the dress, it's evening attire. It'd be easier to get off, but you're right".

Marjorie smirked, and laughed.

"Playsuit it is then. Now", she wondered, "What underwear shall I pick?"

She put the dress hanger down, and the chosen outfit on the bed.

"As if I'll let you pick", she looked back, "If you're a good boy, you may well get to find out".

She winked, and shut her bedroom door.

* * *

Marjorie awoke the next morning, and put on Adam's shirt. Only that, she had the day off work, and decided to be lazy. He was asleep, or so she thought.

After putting the kettle on, she got back into bed. It was still warm on her side, so she snuggled into it.

She shut her eyes for a few minutes, and when she opened them, she saw Adam, awake, and looking at her. The look puzzled her, she took quite a while to decipher it.

"Hmm?" She looked at herself, then him. "What?"

Adam sat up, and looked at the floor.

"Its", he sighed, "Its good to be here again. Things were getting on top of me. My colleague knows about you".

She frowned. "What do they know? Most people know about my old job, it wasn't a secret".

Adam shook his head, and looked at her again. Only, this time, he looked worried, as he scratched his five o'clock shadow.

"He thinks something is going on".

His brain corrected him.

 _No, he knows. Frank knows somehow..._

Marjorie's voice brought him back. "And? What's wrong with two people having sex? Nothing, that's what".

There was that look again, it flickered in his two tone eyes, wondering, somewhat curious.

"Nothing".

Adam didn't sound very convinced. Hell, he didn't even convince himself, that he wasn't bothered.

"Hang on. Is this headed where I think it's headed?"

Hazy grey eyes went wide, and she backed away.

"It better not be Adam. Don't, you, dare".

Every enunciation stabbed Adam in the heart. It made him reconsider what he was about to say...

* * *

Over the time he had known Marjorie, his life had been turned upside down, thrown around, and then he was dropped, into the aftermath, of Panchaea. Form every angle, he was scrutinized, bullied, had almost every aspect of his privacy violated. How he wanted to slink away, into the darkness, and stay away from their lights, the constant flashing, the clicks of their cameras, the people behind them eagerly awaiting something. Reporters, with microphones shoved by his mouth, anticipating an answer, to what had happened at Panchaea. The news only knew so much. The only people that knew the full truth were Eliza Cassan, and himself.

He'd flinch and walk away, making no excuse, merely walking away. Without purpose, without drive, all he really had left was vice. Alcohol was first, that lasted a while, until he made himself so ill, he would sleep all day, and all night, and when he wasn't sleeping, he was starving himself, vomiting, and smoking many more cigarettes than usual.

When Pritchard found a frail, semi-conscious Adam, on the floor of his apartment's living area, he got an ambulance, and ordered the man to stop moping, and survive.

He needed to _survive_. He needed a reason to live, to thrive, to move on.

Sex? Before he broke it off with Megan, even then, he and her didn't have sex that often. They were busy most days, working hard. There wasn't much time, if any, to play hard.

After breaking up with her? The dry spell damn near killed him. He really didn't want to end up hiring escorts, to do things to him. And he grew ever increasingly bitter, that his body, his hands specifically, would never be flesh and blood again, warm.

Now, they were solid metal, lethal, freezing cold. He'd tried to please himself, kill the urge to go out, and screw a woman into the ground, unknowingly bringing her into his oblivion, when all she wanted was the thrill...

But he simply couldn't. The cold killed his urge, not the act itself. In his head, he was warring with himself. Half of his brain turned depraved, and wanted, _needed_ release. Needed that shattering of will, followed by the guilty slump. in mood.

The other half told him to stop. He wasn't human anymore. Why should he be allowed pleasure, when he was nothing more than scrap? If someone murdered him, they'd make a ton of cash, stacks and stacks, wads and wads of the stuff, when they scrapped the metal on, and in his body.

 _Fuck..._

* * *

And then came the tears, the randomly falling drips from his eyelashes. They wet and warmed his chest, but also fell on his arm, the couch, the floor, his bed, his pillow. They fell just about anywhere then. He couldn't control them, even if he wanted too.

After he began to get better in hospital, he decided to go back to work. The first job? Find Marjorie Taylor, Hugh Darrow's secretary, and one of the last people to see the man alive.

Little did Adam know just how much that mission would impact his life.

Marjorie sounded bitter, caustic, she spat unnecessary venom at him. But, when he found out about her situation, he understood her sour demeanor. He'd decided to help her. He didn't want to see her on the streets. She let him into her home, without knowing much about him. He could have been anyone, a sadistic killer for all she knew.

But, she let him into her apartment, gave him her couch, her food, the warmth of the apartment, when he couldn't go back to his hotel. It was swarming with reporters, and Adam did _not_ wish to deal with them right now.

He wanted to repay her, and he did. But, part of him liked that she gave a damn about him, and his well-being a little too much. She seemed to reciprocate his feelings, though she was unsure, out of her depth, and like himself, Marjorie was out of her comfort zone.

* * *

The lack of intimacy part was rectified, when he protected Marjorie, from a potential bomber. Her self absorbed anger fueled him. Instead of making him annoyed however, it keyed him up. He wanted her to see how badly he needed some form of contact.

As he followed her, and took her arm, he knew he should not have touched her. She looked lime she would hit him. He wouldn't blame her if she did.

She didn't. Instead, she felt the same way, the same fire between them, and she allowed herself to be set alight.

For once, someone saw Adam, for who he was, and they didn't run. They didn't want too. They took him on, gained his trust and loyalty.

Few people had Adam's approval, trust, or loyalty.

She had all of those, with more to spare.

He thought back, to that night. How he'd been like an animal. He took what he wanted, but didn't return anything.

He hated himself for that, thought Marjorie would throw him out. She didn't, she merely ignored him.

The woman gave him a second chance, why, he did not know, but the man jumped at it, wanting to prove that he wasn't some selfish prick, only focused on his own needs.

This time was slower, calculated. He showed her he wasn't selfish, oh, he showed her that.

He'd missed this, much more than he could vocalize. He couldn't, all he could do was let his body do the talking.

He still had it, even with the worries, of metal, clashing against skin. No worries were in her mind, she made it clear what she wanted, Adam found himself very attracted to that. Yes the 'shy and silent' type was cute, but after a while, if the woman didn't say what she wanted, the complained that he did know what she wanted, as if he were 'psychic', it would bother him.

* * *

Marjorie waved a hand in front of him, and he shifted his focus onto her.

"Don't".

She knew what he was going to say. Adam's heart began to hammer in his chest.

"Don't you fucking dare say that. _It_ ".

She snarled, but it wasn't from disgust. She was scared, and wanted out of the room.

 _I know..._

"I care about you".

Marjorie blinked, and looked at him. She held her breath.

"Could have been worse. Okay", she looked at him, "I care about you too".

She let out that breath and laughed. "Shit, I thought you were going to end up on bent knee there. Freaked me out".

Adam scoffed. "I don't want to get married. I don't want kids either. I'd just mess it up", he winced, "mess _them_ up".

Marjorie agreed. "I'd be a horrendous parent. Can't stand whinging, and that's all they do".

Adam shrugged. "Not all".

She huffed. "Yes, I know, I am being cynical. I just don't like kids. People can't seem to understand why I haven't had any yet, especially as they like to point out my age, and tell me it'll be too late soon".

Oh no, no way was he going there...

She grinned. "You can ask you know. I won't maim you. I'm not one of those women, who get offended at every little thing".

She stretched. "For your information, I am thirty six".

"Okay, need to get up".

Adam nodded. Internally, he hated this situation. It was more than care, and he damn well knew it. But he couldn't say it. She would end up hating him, and throwing him out.

So, he kept quiet. He was a fairly quiet man anyway, so he hoped Marjorie wouldn't notice anything, that something was off...

* * *

She _did_ , four days later. He'd been _too_ quiet, too subdued, and she was worried.

"Be honest with me here". She sat down beside him, on her knees, and looked at him.

"You didn't tell me the whole truth earlier, did you?"

A solid lump formed in Adam's throat, and no amount of swallowing was getting rid of it.

"No. I'm sparing you from it".

Marjorie squinted. "Sparing? Are you now? Is this is what I believe it is?"

When he nodded, she almost fell backwards after shuffling away.

"What".

She shook her head.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you. There is a reason why you've never seen men around me. They know I'm nasty, so they avoid me. And that's good. I would rather them avoid me, then try to like me. They'd end up bitter, twisted. I hurt people Adam, and I don't even mean too".

Adam was done trying to be quiet, and civil now. He needed to get this off his chest.

"Gonna kick me out? I need to know, sooner the better".

Marjorie considered it, and felt bitter laughter bubble up her throat, and tears stain her lashes.

"Yes actually. Go find some Barbie doll, who is utterly perfect, in every way, cause I'm not honey".

She spat out the words, in an emotional torrent.

"Bye. Shut the door on your way out".

He wouldn't cry, he wouldn't cry, he wouldn't...

He started crying. He didn't care if she heard him now.

"Fine".

He coughed, and nodded, walking to the door, at a brisk pace.

What Marjorie said next enraged him.

"Why the hell are you upset? I did warn you against _this_. _This_ wasn't a thing, it was _never_ going to BE a thing. But no, you go all gooey eyed over me, and I end up feeling backed into a corner. No Adam, just no".

Adam almost pulled his hair out in frustration.

He scoffed. "Yeah, because I asked to feel like this, asked to end up making another person despise me. You really think I wanted to end up liking you? _Loving_ you? No! I didn't. But don't act like this is all on me, because you and I both know it damn well isn't. You can deny it all you want, but I know how you feel".

Defiant grey eyes met emotional green, and she conceded defeat.

"I care, yes. I know what love is, and this isn't it. I admire you, respect you, but that's it".

Adam tapped his temple. "Then why is my neural aug telling me you are lying? It's never wrong".

Marjorie shrugged. "Maybe it's on the fritz, and you need another one".

Adam was in complete disbelief. "Okay. If you're going to act like a child, I'll treat you like one".

He sat back down, folded his arms, and looked at the floor.

"You're lying. I dislike lying. Tell me the truth, and I'll go, no more questioning".

He mumbled. "I'll leave you to mope".

She rolled her eyes. "Mope? Who the fuck are you to say that?" She panicked, feeling faint. "Please stop. I'm not okay with this".

She groaned, and held her head. "You had to go and complicate things, didn't you?"

Adam grumbled. "Because I _meant_ too, right?"

He stood, and knelt in front of her.

"I'm not asking you to start loving me. I am asking for the truth. At least give me that".

Marjorie sniffled. "Is this the part where I break down, and tell you I think I really care? Sod the L word".

Adam laughed. "You really can't say it, can you?"

She laughed. "No. It's a little too personal for me right now. Who knows though", she moved forward. "I may say it at some point. Likely when I am drunk, granted".

She stopped laughing. "Listen, I'm sorry. I get so wrapped up in my own twisted, bitter web, that when someone tries to help, I end up snapping at them".

Adam moved up, onto his knees, and smiled warmly, as he caught Marjorie blushing.

"Trust me, I know that one. It's okay. I'm sorry too".

He kissed her, and she hummed happily.

"Can we move on? Even if this turns out to be nothing, at least we tried. I'd rather try ans fail, then not try at all".

She agreed wholeheartedly. "Of course. You're dead on", she twitched her lips, and looked in the direction of the kitchen.

"Coffee?"

Adam shook his head.

"Something stronger?"

He nodded.

She giggled like a schoolgirl.

"Alright. I guess we'll put up with each other for a little longer, see how this pans out".

She walked into the kitchen, leaving Adam still on the floor.

He watched her walk away, and felt elation sweep through him.

Somehow, in all the chaos, rife in the fucked up world he lived in, he'd found solace again. An anchor, a chance for a fresh start.

And he would take it, grab it, lasso it, do anything, and keep a tight hold.

Yes, even the brave can fall, but Adam would fall willingly...

* * *

 **Looking forward to Mankind Divided? I know I am. :)**


End file.
